Survival KITT
by Bookworm Gal
Summary: They were made for each other. Literally in Kitt's case. They were partners and friends. Nothing could tear them apart. Then outside forces conspired against them and the result was a lonely soul mourning the loss of his other half. But things aren't always what they seem. Not even death can divide them forever. It just might take some time. Original series canon and 08 series AU.
1. Grief and Loss

**I really, really don't know what I'm doing anymore when it comes to this concept of self-control. But this idea has been bouncing around in my head for probably over a year by now and isn't going away. So I'm being dragged kicking and screaming into another story idea apparently. One that I'm only semi-certain I know what I'm going to do with it.**

**This mess of an idea is supposed to sort of connect the two series "Knight Rider" together in a manner of speaking, though I'll probably mess plenty of things up in the attempt. I liked the original "Knight Rider" show. Kitt and Michael have a rather nice friendship over the course of the series. I'm a lot less familiar with the 2008 version of the show and I've decided to deal with it in broad strokes. In fact, it'll probably be sort of AU for that part. I'll be doing plenty of adapting in order to make things work out like they do in my head and I am still unfamiliar with some of the new characters. So I apologize now if the more modern characters aren't quite as accurately portrayed as the original ones. If anyone wants to help me by sending a PM with a description of some of the new characters' personalities and such, I welcome your input. But they won't come into play immediately anyway. Things have to start back in the 80s with Kitt, Michael, Bonnie, and Devon before we reach the time period for KITT, Mike, Sarah, Zoe, and Billy. And I might not even include all of them, depending on how AU this ends up being for the 2008 series.**

**And just like most of my stories, I have absolutely no idea what my update schedule will be like. Just be aware that feedback can serve as an incentive to try and update sooner. One last warning in case this is the first of my stories you've read. I tend to torture the characters I love either physically, mentally, emotionally, or all of the above.**

Survival KITT

Robert Harris was a practical man. He was also a man who knew when a resource was being underutilized and knew how to recognize a solution to that problem. Adding in his patriotism and his true belief in the idea that one man didn't matter in the grand scheme of things helped explain why he ended up in charge of a small, mostly-unknown branch of the government in charge of developing the most experimental and innovative weapons. He insured that ideas that no one else would have faith in were carefully developed and perfected for soldiers. Or CIA agents. Or any part of the government that might need to "remove" a problem to America's safety and well-being, legally or illegally.

His small collection of scientists, soldiers, and talented paper-pushers were all referred to as Lab 42. At least, it was known as such to the few people high enough to know of their existence. Harris understood the concept of secrets. The government held more than a few after all. But being a member of a major secret group had its advantages. One of them was that he knew of several other secrets. And one such secret held his interest and that of his top scientists.

The Foundation for Law and Government was privately owned and funded by the wealth of the late Wilton Knight. There was plenty of technology and skilled technicians at work there, but only one that he was interested. While Harris was not the best scientist himself, he understood the implications and potential that a true artificial intelligence provided. What Wilton Knight, and Dr. Charles Graiman before he practically vanished into thin air, designed was something incredible. And those foolish people only thought to use it to solve minor crimes and the occasional larger problem. They could have mass produced it and sold it to the army for their use. And even if they couldn't repeat the creation for some reason, they could have still done something more than place it in a car with programming to guard one man. Even if they manage to cause some minor good with their missions to stop thieves and uncover corruption, it was too limited for Harris's taste. His research demonstrated that the Knight Industries Two Thousand's main cybernetic processor originally was installed in a mainframe computer used by the government until a certain millionaire with too much money and too much idealism decided it would serve the country better in a Pontiac Trans Am.

He first approached FLAG through official channels, but Jennifer Knight proved to be rather tight-lipped about her father's final project. And when pressed further, she stated that Michael Knight might not be perfect, but he was a better brother than the one she was related to by blood and the cost of FLAG's operations was worth it to keep her father's dream alive. Harris was mildly surprised since his sources indicated that she at one point attempted to shut them down, but the woman seemed to have a change of heart since then.

Harris next tried contacting Devon Miles, who seemed to be the one in charge of the Foundation's operations. That one proved to be a rather interesting experience. While his time dealing with the government made Harris an expert at handling red-tape and battling bureaucracy, Mr. Miles was very talented at keeping outsiders at bay with legal loopholes and protocol once he realized what the man's intended goal was. Harris could respect that, but he didn't intend to let it stop him.

His third attempt was perhaps his most bold. Rather than call another possible contact, Harris simply drove to the property of the late Wilton Knight and the current headquarters of FLAG. Getting past the gate without permission was a little tricky, but connections to the government and displaying complete confidence could open most doors. It was a beautiful place and certainly worth more than he could ever hope to afford, but his sole focus was on the reason for his visit. Parked in the gravel driveway was the black vehicle, a red light moving back and forth along a scanner on the front. Standing next to the car, apparently in conversation with each other before the arrival of company, was a brown-haired man in a black jacket and a brunette woman. Harris identified them as Michael Knight, a man with a very limited history, and Dr. Bonnie Barstow, a brilliant technician and engineer.

That encounter left quite an impression on Harris. While initially confused by his presence, the pair quickly became hostile when he stated his desire to acquire the artificial intelligence commonly referred to as Kitt. Not only did the driver and the scientist argue against such a thing, but the car itself informed him in a firm and cultured voice that he had no intentions of accompanying him anywhere. It was one thing to know that the black T-top held an AI. It was another for it to respond like an actual person. It was definitely an impressive piece of programming. The conversation continued to become more hostile as Mr. Knight's voice grew louder in defense of his "partner" until Devon Miles came outside and asked Harris to leave the premises and to "please never return." The final words Harris heard as he left was Mr. Knight shouting that they could have Kitt over his dead body.

That could be arranged.

Harris managed to secure a position for one of his best scientists inside the Foundation, though dealing with the rather extensive background check was a challenge. While his inside man continued to spy and funnel out what information he could manage about Kitt, Harris began to make arrangements. It took months to gather to correct intelligence about the AI and everything he learned led to slight adjustments to his final plan. He obtained another Pontiac Trans Am and filled it with equipment similar to what was supposedly in the target vehicle. He began preparing a false trail indicating the existence of some dangerous terrorists with powerful weaponry at a location of his choosing as the time drew near. Finally, he gathered some key items to ensure success.

He would have preferred to gain the artificial intelligence legally, but it was too important of a development to let even the law stop him.

* * *

"I'm telling you, pal," Michael remarked, his eyes on the road even if it was unnecessary. "Something feels fishy about this whole thing. It just seems too good to be true."

"You do recall how long it took us to find anything of use? These people are very talented at covering their tracks," responded Kitt, the lights of the voice modulator illuminating and dimming with his words. "Almost anyone else would have missed it. How do you call that 'too good to be true'?"

Michael glanced at the closest thing his partner had to a face. He'd grown very competent at judging Kitt's thoughts and emotions (which he still sometimes tried to deny he had, though not as strenuously as he did in the beginning) solely by his tone of voice and the movement of lights. Without body language or facial expressions, the man was forced to develop those skills or else risk never knowing what was going on Kitt's head (so to speak). Right now, he could tell that his partner was mostly confident about his assessment concerning the group of terrorists, but there was a subtlety to the tone that indicated that he wasn't planning to dismiss Michael's hunch yet.

Shifting slightly in his seat, Michael admitted, "I don't know how to explain it. There's just something about this entire mission that just doesn't feel right. There's no logical reason for it, but there is something wrong about all of it."

When Kitt didn't immediately respond, he turned his attention back to the landscape outside the windshield. The area was isolated and empty of everything except for some odd concrete buildings that were apparently some kind of government storage site in the sixties. The thick walls would certainly inhibit Kitt's scanners, which added to Michael's unease about the entire situation. They wouldn't know if there was someone in these buildings unless they physically saw them. The terrorists hiding out couldn't have picked a better place for an ambush against them unless they added a large pit filled with acid. Michael quickly dragged his thoughts away from that particular memory and glanced back down at the voice modulator.

"Perhaps it _would_ be wise to be cautious then," Kitt slowly admitted. "Just in case there is something we missed."

Michael nodded slightly while he shifted his gaze once more toward their surroundings. He knew his partner would be keeping his scanners busy looking for the terrorists or a possible trap, but the concrete would definitely inhibit his abilities. If there was trouble, they needed to be ready and that meant he needed to do his part. But they'd grown rather talented at remaining on alert while occupied with more trivial things, so he held no doubts that the conversation would eventually continue.

After a few moments of silence, Kitt asked, "Have you ever thought about the future?"

"Our future or the future in general?" he responded.

They'd had various conversations over the years, even during the slower parts of missions. They'd discussed every topic under the sun practically, from Michael's childhood memories to what the appeal of soap operas might possibly be to the latest philosophical book Bonnie downloaded into Kitt's memory to whether or not their actions were truly making a difference to the world. It didn't matter if it was a serious conversation or a pointless one. He just liked talking to his partner. He liked seeing how much Kitt had changed over the years since he met him and how he viewed the world. Michael knew he'd changed too, but there was just something about how the artificial intelligence that lived in the black T-top had grown. All those technicians and engineers can claim it was all programming and some of it was certainly encoded into him, but Kitt was also his own person with his own opinions and ideas. The scientist people might claim that such a thing was impossible, but they'd never gotten to know his partner like he did. Michael generally didn't do much deep reflection if he could avoid it, but he knew that these random conversation helped reveal who Kitt was.

"Our future, Michael," clarified the AI, the lights flickering hesitantly as his voice held a hint of unease. "We both know that this can't last forever."

He knew that, but they both generally avoided this particular topic. Eventually in the distant future, these missions would end. Michael would either get hurt or too old to keep up with the various criminals and threats in the world. Devon, assuming he was still alive at the time, would probably arrange some kind of retirement for him. But what would happen to Kitt then? He was literally programmed to be the partner to Michael Knight. That was his main purpose in existence. Would they figure out a way to let Kitt retire alongside him? Or would they try to get him to bond with someone else and continue the Foundation's work? With the right parts and upgrades, Kitt could theoretically be kept running long after everyone he knew died of old age. Who would take care of him then? Who would be there to recognize how unique and truly alive Kitt was? Michael didn't want to consider it, but it was something they would have to deal with someday. And apparently his partner wanted to discuss it today as they headed towards their destination.

Cautiously, Michael began, "Look, I know what you're probably thinking, pal. But I promise you one thing. I—"

"_No_," interrupted Kitt abruptly, coming as close to shouting as his voice modulator would allow him and instantly accelerating.

Switching his mindset quickly from cautious but casual to something far more alert, Michael turned his head and managed to catch a glimpse of a large door on one of the concrete buildings flying open and something immediately racing out of it. He only had a second to catch an impression of the fast shape, too small to be another vehicle and too swift to be a person or a large bird, before Kitt's voice reached him again.

"Sorry, pal…"

There was only one other time Michael remembered hearing that exact tone with those words. It was when they faced that drone car with the missile…

"Don't—" he tried to order, but Kitt was already ejecting him from the car.

* * *

One of the advantages of being an AI was that he could process all the possible options and outcomes to a problem in nanoseconds. The very instant the missile, launched from inside the concrete structure where he couldn't detect it until it was too late to escape, Kitt consider everything he could do to minimize the danger of what was to come. He couldn't outrun the trap, even though he started accelerating away as soon as he recognized the threat. Other doors on the concrete buildings were opening ahead of them, implying that there would be more missiles launched at them even if they could avoid the one behind them. And while he was protected from most smaller projectiles by a protective coating of Tri-Helical Plasteel 1000 MBS, both he and Michael knew from experience that there were limits to that protection and missiles tended to be too much. So he used the next few nanoseconds not to consider options to save both of them, but how to keep Michael at least alive.

While the driver's seat was generally the safest place for his partner, Kitt calculated that his odds of survival if he was in the car's interior were very low. It was less than one percent if the missile struck the wrong spot and decreased even further if more were fired from the opening doors ahead of them. As in the case in the past when they faced an inescapable missile, Michael's best chance would be if he wasn't in the vehicle on impact. Unlike that situation, however, he had less warning of the imminent explosion and there was a high probability that his partner would still be in range on impact. And even if Michael managed to escape most of the blast, Kitt knew he would be in no condition to ensure he was safe afterwards and his partner would be at the mercy of their attackers. They could capture or kill him and there would be nothing the AI would be able to do to stop it.

But the probability of his survival, while still far too low in Kitt's opinion, were the most promising if he ejected his partner before it was too late. He knew that Michael would never forgive him for this. He wasn't a fan of Kitt trying to sacrifice himself to keep him safe, but his primary programming and main purpose in existence was to protect his driver at all costs. And while he might have changed since his first activation, that was one piece of coding that would remain constant because it helped define who he was. And he _wanted_ Michael to be safe because he was his friend. So if there was even a small chance of protecting his partner, Kitt would take it.

In the little remaining time available, Kitt sent a quick emergency signal to alert Devon and Bonnie of the danger while apologizing to his partner for what he was about to do. Perhaps they would be able to arrive soon enough to help Michael. It was the best he could do for him. And maybe Bonnie would be able to fix the damage the missile would cause. She'd always been able to pull him through before.

He knew that Michael could figure out his intentions. The man might not be Bonnie, Devon, or Kitt's equal in pure intellectual knowledge, but he was not stupid. Before Michael could order his partner not to do it, Kitt activated the ejector seat.

There wasn't even a full second between Michael being thrown out of the car and the impact, but it was more than enough time for the AI to run through the various scenarios of what could happen to his partner. He could calculate with more certainty and fewer variables what his condition would be, what injuries he might sustain due to the impromptu flight and the nearby explosion, and if he would even survive the next few minutes. But Kitt didn't. There was nothing he could do to change what would happen, so there was no reason to run the calculations. If he was about to be knocked offline for an untold amount of time or even finally destroyed completely, he at least wanted to have some hope that Michael would be all right.

Physical pain to his "body" wasn't something that translated well to him, at least based of his understanding of the sensation as humans felt it. He could detect contact, impact, and even damage to the Trans Am that housed him. The signals were useful at times, especially since humanity was such a tactile species and often tried to demonstrate fondness by touch. They could be distracting and concerning when the signals became alarms warning of damage to the integrity of the structure, something that occurred more rarely due to the durability of the MBS. So the missile's impact and detonation didn't "hurt" in the way that a human would probably imagine it, but it was unpleasant and uncomfortable in the nanoseconds it took the blast to swallow the car.

But when his systems were affected, that was probably closer to a pain that Michael would understand. The blast knocked out and damaged various scanner, minor processors, and numerous systems as the interior of the car was torn apart. Whole sections, _important_ ones, simply weren't accessible to him any longer, as if part of his consciousness was ripped away to leave only a gapping darkness with only broken and nonsensical signals from those interrupted connection making it through. Even with his vast vocabulary, the closest words to describe the sensation of that loss were "aching" and "raw." No human language seemed to have anything that fit the feeling perfectly. It left him blind, deaf, mute, trapped, and missing parts of himself that he _knew_ should be there, but weren't.

Kitt did the only thing he could do when something attacked his systems, physically or electronically. He focused on protecting his memory and personality from harm. All other information and processes could be reloaded and replaced. But those were the factors that made him unique and were the work of experience rather than just programming. They could not be perfectly replicated and their loss would leave him as… someone else. Someone who wasn't Michael's friend and partner. He'd seen how much Michael changed when he temporarily lost a large portion of his memories; Kitt would rather not stop being himself.

Just as the damage forced him to shut down completely, the AI hoped he'd done enough to save them. Either way, he was out of time.

* * *

Harris called a quick order into his radio not to fire a second missile. The first one seemed to have worked. His soldiers lowered their weapons and stepped forward cautiously to where the black T-top still smoldered slightly. With thick blankets, they began extinguishing the flames and gathering up any wreckage that might be from the vehicle. They wouldn't risk chemical fire extinguishers in case they could ruin the electronics further. The external was mostly cosmetic damage with the shell of the car having survived. His men knew how to hit a target.

He was rather proud of how the operation played out. His inside man was able to determine the general firepower that would be required to disable the car and the AI on impact, but without necessarily causing irreversible harm. A full list of weakness and limitations, carefully collected over the months, ensured that Harris's men would be able to remain undetected until the last moment. In addition, his scientist was also able to gain access to a small sample of the MBS in the form of a paint stored from the last time the car was rebuilt. Not enough to do much with it, but enough to make a decoy look real. It was too bad they couldn't get access to the formula though. They'd just have to settle for the real prize.

Kitt was loaded in place and secured on the truck. Another Trans Am, painted with the specific black paint and loaded with computer hardware that would look similar enough to the original, replaced it. They'd even altered as many of the serial numbers as possible to match. All the copy lacked was AI to operate it, but it wouldn't matter in a few minutes.

"Sir, we located Michael Knight," a voice crackled over the radio. "He's unconscious and definitely in medical care as soon as possible, but he's still alive at the moment. What should we do? If nothing else, he's a little too close for comfort to the car."

"Leave him exactly where you found him," Harris ordered. "We can't risk moving him or else this entire operation could be exposed. And his death was already a cost we factored in as a possibility. There are more important things on the line than the life of one man. His survival or demise won't make a difference."

There was a slight pause before the voice said, "Acknowledged."

Several missiles were fired at the decoy car, including one at the false scanner at the front. It was listed as one of the main weaknesses to the machine and the best way to guarantee that CPU was destroyed. No one would be surprised then when they couldn't find any trace left of the AI's programming. As far as FLAG would know, Kitt was gone. All trails would lead to the conclusion that it suffered catastrophic damage from the missiles and the computer systems were beyond repair.

In reality, Lab 42 would gain possession of the AI system and could begin trying to obtain its full potential. Originally, Harris intended to completely reprogram it from the ground up. But between what he observed in his first encounter with Kitt and what his inside man described during his time at the Foundation, it would be wiser to try and preserve as much as possible.

There was a reason why seasoned soldiers were preferred to those new to combat. Experience. This AI possessed several years of experience in a variety of situations. Why take control of a learning system and then delete most of what it had learned? It would be easier to solve problems and devise strategies if it could call upon past knowledge. All the time those people at FLAG sent the car and Mr. Knight on minor missions could actually serve the greater good if they could manage to direct the AI towards its new purpose without deleting all the experience it gained during those years. It might take more effort, but he was a practical man. There was no reason to squander the valuable resource of past experience when they could make use of it instead.

As the last of the personnel and equipment was loaded, Harris took a final glance at his surroundings. The decoy car was barely recognizable and smoke continued to billow out of it. Somewhere near there would be Michael Knight lying there alive, dead or dying. The scene certainly looked like an attack on pursuers, terrorists known to be armed with dangerous weapons. No one would ever know the truth except for those at Lab 42.

* * *

There was no way for him to know how long it had been since he went offline. Anything he might remotely use to judge the passage of time was still unavailable to him. He couldn't even access Michael's comlink at the moment. He could keep track of the time from that point on, but it was still uncomfortable not knowing how much he might have missed before. Kitt wasn't very happy with the situation, but he accepted it as inevitable considering he'd been hit by a missile at some point in the past. Hopefully Bonnie would repair and connect his systems back soon and he'd be able to tell what was happening.

At the moment, everything was silent and dark. He was trapped in his CPU with almost nothing to link him to the rest of the world. What little he could access seemed to indicate that his main processor was stable. From experience, Kitt knew that Bonnie would soon hook up a computer in order to contact him and assure herself of his condition. When she did, he'd be able to ask about Michael. He needed to know if his partner was all right. Just knowing that he'd soon have the answer was enough to keep Kitt from panicking over the loss of all input. He desperately wanted some connection to the world outside his own processor. Being cut off from everything except his thoughts was rarely comfortable. All he could do was reexamine his memories and reflect on what could have theoretically occurred since his systems went offline.

It wasn't a voice or letters on a screen. He was receiving pure input from someone typing out a message and sending it into his CPU. Or rather, a command.

**Knight Industries Two Thousand. Acknowledge.**

It had to be Bonnie trying to contact him. She was probably worried out of her mind that his more vital programming was damaged or corrupted. She would want some form of a response to let her know that he was still himself.

_**I'm fine, Bonnie. How's Michael? Is he all right?**_

He waited almost fifty-nine seconds before he received an answer. It wasn't, however, what he was expecting.

**This is not Dr. Bonnie Barstow. This is Robert Harris. We have met before.**

It only took a couple of nanoseconds for Kitt to pull up the memory of the man. He wasn't a man that the AI was particularly fond of. He wasn't an evil man from what he knew, but his desire to have Kitt did little to endear him to anyone at the Foundation.

_**What are you doing here? I was under the impression that Devon told you to never set foot on the property again. Where's Bonnie?**_

The response only took thirty-one seconds this time and was even more concerning.

**You are not at the Foundation.**

_**What?**_

With each passing moment was making him feel more anxious. Why wouldn't he be at the Foundation. Were they trying to repair him on the semi? But why would Robert Harris be present and not Bonnie? He desperately wanted his scanners back online. Kitt reached for any of his systems in a futile attempt to figure out what was going on. He needed to determine his surroundings. He needed to find his friends. He needed answers.

A full one hundred and twenty-seven seconds passed this time before Harris sent his response. If it was possible to send a chill down the spine of an entity without such a structure and that currently lacked the ability to sense temperature difference, the man's message accomplished it.

**You are not at the Foundation. You no longer belong to them. You are now the property of Lab 42. We gained ownership from them after your last mission was a failure. We have far larger plans for you than what those at the Foundation hoped to accomplish.**

This time it was Kitt who didn't answer quickly. He struggled to find the logic behind the strange turn of events. What could have occurred to lead to this result? Did Harris go as far as to steal him at some point after the attack? If so, Kitt held very few doubts that he would be in the man's possession for long. Michael did not quit once he decided on an action and he would not leave Kitt behind.

Thankful that communicating through the connected computer meant he didn't have to control his tone of voice in order to hide his confusion and unease, the AI composed a suitable reply.

_**I recall that Michael spoke with you on this matter in the past. I believe his feelings on the matter were "over his dead body." Bonnie and Devon were equally clear on their refusal. So why should I believe that you have ownership?**_

The response was far too short and quick.

**Because Michael Knight is dead.**

Shock hit first, almost freezing up all his processes. It couldn't be true. It had to be a lie. He couldn't confirm that with his Voice Stress Analyzer since it was still offline and because Harris was writing out his response, but it couldn't be true. Kitt knew it had to be a lie. Michael…

_**You're lying.**_

**No, I am not.**

Kitt began pouring over those last precious few nanoseconds from before the missile struck. He started running variables and probabilities, searching for evidence that could conclusively destroy Harris's words. There had to be something that he'd missed. Something that would raise the odds of survival enough to prove that Michael wasn't…

**He simply did not make it clear of the blast in time. His injuries were too much for him to survive.**

The AI refused to accept it, even if his data was demonstrating that it was quite likely. In fact, it was the most probable result. But those numbers didn't factor in so many important things. Like how the man regularly beat the odds to achieve success. Or how he survived so many times when he should have died, just like the accident that brought them together in the first place. And the numbers didn't account for how wrong the world would be if Michael wasn't in it. He couldn't be gone. He_ needed_ him.

Kitt reached for his connection to the comlink. He fought uselessly against the damage and off-lined parts of his systems in search for that one tie to Michael. He tried again and again to find it, to reach out and gain even the slightest signal that might suggest he was alive. It didn't matter how small or how unreliable the evidence might be. It couldn't be true.

Harris continued to type. And while part of Kitt acknowledged the message, it barely held his attention in comparison to the crumbling of his denial.

**Dr. Barstow and Mr. Miles were upset about the loss, both because he was a good man and because it was the end of the program. You were designed specifically for one person. Those higher in the hierarchy of Knight Industries have decided it would not be worth the time and expense to attempt adapting you to another, especially considering the damage already present. They would have simply left you offline and never reactivated you, but we believe that you could still serve some good.**

Kitt almost wished that he did remain offline. It would have been far kinder. He would have had hope of Michael's survival. He could have believed that he fulfilled his purpose.

His main programming, his sole purpose in existence, was for the preservation of human life in general and for Michael Knight specifically. Everything else about him came down to that. So what was left when his purpose was gone? How do you preserve the life of someone who'd already lost his? What was he supposed to do without his driver, his partner, and his friend?

He remembered the death of Stephanie March Mason. Or rather, Stevie Knight. Michael loved her and then lost her. Kitt remembered how much that hurt his partner and continued to suffer afterwards. She was someone very important to Michael and then she was gone. Was this how he felt?

Everything was spiraling apart, cascading down until there was nothing left except a growing pain and loneliness that tried to overwhelm every megabit of memory and processing power. Every denial of emotions… Every statement about how he didn't have any feelings… He wished it was true. Anguish. Loss. Sorrow. Hopelessness. All the things that an artificial intelligence shouldn't possess now threatened to overload his barely-online processor and he couldn't care less.

His reason for existing was gone. Why did he still exist if Michael no longer did? It just seemed wrong. Even if his partner retired someday and Kitt could no longer see him every day, he would have _still_ existed somewhere in the world. They would have managed somehow. But this was worse. He failed to protect the most important person in his life and now he was alone. And it _hurt_.

**Our scientists can repair the damage, though they are not quite as talented as Dr. Barstow when it comes to your systems.** **They will learn soon enough. The type of missions we have in mind may be different than those you have performed in the past, but they are also important to ensure the best for our country. In fact, they are more important. I am certain you will adapt quickly.**

He didn't want any more missions. He didn't work alone. He was part of a team. And the team was broken. His partner was gone. Michael's absence reminded Kitt of his offline systems: a gapping darkness where something important used to be. But unlike his systems, this would never be repaired. Machinery and computers could be replaced; people couldn't. Would every nanosecond of the rest of his existence feel this awful?

Briefly, his thoughts turned to Bonnie and Devon. Kitt knew that they wouldn't willingly turn him over to someone who was practically a stranger, but he also knew that sometimes things were out of their control. He wanted their comforting and familiar presence. He wanted Bonnie's protective affection and Devon's calm stability. Without Michael, he needed someone… No, that wouldn't work. They would also be upset and hurt by events. Both of them cared about Michael too in their own ways. Neither of them would probably go so far as to blame Kitt for not saving him, though the AI was already blaming himself, but they didn't need his emotional pain on top of their own.

**Knight Industries Two Thousand. Acknowledge.**

Apparently Harris felt that there should have been a reaction by now. Kitt quickly determined that his usual responses wouldn't quite get his intentions across clear enough. In fact, he couldn't think of anything that would make his message clear enough. Then he decided to draw inspiration from Michael's example. Or rather, his example from when they first met and considering each other allies was difficult for the man. Before they truly became partners. Before they were friends. That was the start of everything. Michael was so blunt and unwilling to work with anyone back then. But he would have certainly been able to express his disinterest in speaking with Harris in a way that no one could misunderstood. And that was what Kitt needed now, even if the response wasn't what the AI would have normally chosen.

_**Shut up and leave me alone.**_

Harris probably tried to communicate further. Kitt didn't notice or care. All of his processing power was busy with more important things than the man's words.

Even if he was still connected to his voice modulator, the volume would never allow the AI to scream or shout. And the act of crying was impossible without eyes and tear ducts. The human methods of expressing heartbreaking, agonizing, overwhelming sorrow were denied to him due to what he was. But if there was a computer equivalent of curling up in a dark corner of his CPU and sobbing at the unfairness of the world, Kitt discovered how to do it. He ignored all input or attempts of communication as he mourned the loss of best friend.

* * *

Waiting in or near a hospital room was a far too common occurrence Devon. Even when the patient wasn't in an actual hospital and was instead treated on the property, there was still the same concerned feeling for the patient's well-being. It started back when Wilton Knight was still alive, though slowly dying. Then there was the wait to learn if Michael Long would live to become Michael Knight. And after that was the numerous times that the younger man ended up in need of medical care because of a particularly challenging mission. Some of the doctors were beginning to memorize Michael's medical information and one of the nurses referred to a specific recovery room as his "usual one." The amount of time he spent there was highly concerning, especial considering how much worse it would have been without Kitt there so many times to protect Michael.

This visit was almost certainly going to be the worst. Not because of the physical injuries to the younger man, though the concussion, cracked ribs, minor internal bleeding, burns, and various bruises were not anything to easily ignore. Considering the number of times he'd been shot, beaten, poisoned, and simply injured, Devon knew the damage to his body would heal. He was more concerned about less visible wounds.

The older man glanced over at his companion. Bonnie looked like a mere shadow of her normal self. It wasn't that surprising considering how long she'd been without a proper night's sleep and the results of her desperate work. Her normally-cheerful eyes especially told the tale. They were now bloodshot with dark circles under he tried to encourage her to stay away and get some rest, she insisted in accompanying him for this visit. She told him that she had to be the one to break the news.

The news that Michael woke up that morning and was already asking for them was met with mild trepidation from the two of them. The nurses also claimed he was asking for his watch, which currently rested in Devon's pocket. He didn't want the younger man to figure out the truth until there was someone with him.

They arrived to find a bored and anxious to leave Michael sitting up in his hospital bed, bandaged and healing from his ordeal. While part of Devon hoped that the younger man would ask how long it would be until he could get out of there and if there were any new leads on his last mission, he knew what the first words would be out of his mouth.

"How's Kitt doing? He got hit by whatever they fired, didn't he?" He shook his head slightly, taking care not to agitate the headache that was undoubtedly still plaguing him. "They knew what they were doing. They were hidden from his scanner until right before they fired. We didn't have any time. And if I didn't know it was useless to argue against that particular piece of programming, we would be having a few words about him tossing me out and taking the hit himself." He took a breath before continuing slowly, "I also know that he wouldn't have done that unless it was really bad and I remember an explosion. How serious was it?"

"I can tell you this much," Devon began carefully. "If you were in the driver's seat upon impact, we would not be having this conversation right now. In fact, from what I understand, your proximity at the time of the explosion makes your entire survival a stroke of pure luck."

"Well, then tell Kitt thanks next time you get the chance then. I'd tell him myself, but one of those doctors or nurses apparently misplaced my comlink," he said, gesturing towards his wrist. Leaning forward slightly, he asked in a more serious tone, "So how bad was? As bad as when we were dealing with those drones with the weaponry or as bad as when that talking piece of garbage dumped him in that toxic pit? That explosion had to be enough to have shaken a few things loose at least."

Devon opened his mouth in preparation for a response, but no words came out. He never liked being the one to deliver such grave news and this time felt especially personal. His silence instantly caused Michael's brow to furrow. The younger man could clearly see that something was wrong.

Bonnie stepped forward, giving Michael an unobstructed view of how tired and sad she looked. Her appearance did little to ease his apparent growing concern.

"Kitt managed to send a short signal for help we assume right before impact," she explained, trying to keep her voice calm and controlled. "It took us some time to get there, but we tried to hurry. There was no sign of your attackers, but apparently some governmental agents or someone caught up with them later. They've been dealt with."

"That's good to hear," responded Michael uneasily, glancing between the two.

The young woman continued, "We got you medical attention as quickly as we could manage. And I started on trying to help Kitt almost immediately. I tried." Her voice began to waver slightly, "We don't think they fired just one missile at him. There was too much damage to everything for that. They were thorough. Not much can damage the MBS, but they hit him enough times that we could barely detect its presence in some places. And one of the shots was through his main scanner."

Devon watched the younger man grow slightly pale. Michael may never have much of an interest or memory for classic literature or certain scientific theories, but he'd paid attention enough to Bonnie's descriptions over the years to recognize what counted as a genuine threat to Kitt's well-being and what the implications of certain forms of damage would be. He knew almost as well as Bonnie did, if not as comprehensively, that targeting that particular opening in the MBS would provide direct access to Kitt's CPU. Michael was putting the pieces together.

"I tried. I did everything that I could think of," she said, her voice now clearly betraying her feelings. "I combed through every pieces of equipment, no matter how damaged. And then I went through them again. I was certain that I was missing it, that I'd find some piece of coding hidden in a half-melted microchip or something and I'd be able to fix everything. But I couldn't find it. I couldn't find _him_. I kept looking and looking," tears began sliding down Bonnie's cheeks, "trying to get him back. It was just too much damage. Too much was destroyed. There was nothing left that could contain him. I… I couldn't do anything. I tried. I'm sorry, Michael. I'm so sorry." Devon could barely understand her as the brilliant, but heartbroken young woman choked out, "Kitt's gone."

There were many traits, both positive and negative, that he'd observed about Michael during their acquaintanceship and eventual friendship. One that he'd always admired was the younger man's inner strength. It always seemed to keep him going, no matter the obstacles him might encounter. Now, it seemed to Devon that it was the only thing that kept the hospitalized man from shattering at the news. But it was clearly a struggle for him. A lesser man would have broken out in tears or would be lashing out at Bonnie or Devon in misplaced anger for what had occurred. He did neither. Instead, he reached out an arm and pulled the quietly sobbing young woman closer. Michael held her in a one-armed hug, letting her cry into his undoubtedly-sore shoulder, while his eyes were squeezed shut as he seemed to combat the mixture of emotions that the news clearly caused.

Honestly, Devon didn't know what to say or do at the moment. He cared about Kitt, almost like the AI was the good child of the family while Michael served as the troublemaking one. The loss of such a unique and wonderful life was a tragedy for anyone who knew him. But it was different for Bonnie and Michael.

She was the one who helped to create Kitt in the first place, helping Wilton Knight's dream become a reality. She was the one who continued to worry and repair him, scolding his driver for placing her Kitt in too much danger and taking too many risks.

Michael was his partner, the one who spent the most time with Kitt and held perhaps the greatest influence in shaping who he was after the initial activation. Furthermore, adopting his new identity meant the loss of his past. While Michael Long might have had plenty of friends and family, Michael Knight was far more alone. He met people on missions, had the occasional date that rarely went past their third night out, and spent time with those at FLAG, but it was clear that his closest and most important bond was with Kitt. Now that bond was severed and his new purpose in life would either have to adapt to the loss or would be over. One man might be able to make a difference, but it was cruel to expect him to do so completely alone.

Devon watched Michael and Bonnie in silence for some time, his thoughts drifting back toward his old friend. He wondered, staring at the woman mourning the loss of her AI child and lonely man struggling not to break, if Wilton Knight knew what he was doing when he first dreamed up his grand idea. Did he know how saving Michael's life and introducing him to Kitt would lead to this someday? Or did Wilton not realize how truly alive Kitt would be and how painful for others it would be when he died.

**Yep, I'm an evil individual. I get torture everyone in this story by making them think that the other one is dead. But they survived! That doesn't mean it isn't depressing to watch them deal with their grief. I don't know when the next chapter will be and things won't be getting better for our heroes for some time. But feedback makes me smile. Thanks.**


	2. Breaking

**I loved the feedback so far. And I want to extend a special thanks to GoldenLioness100 for their input on some of the 08 characters. It was very helpful and they are amazing for giving me so much of their time to ask questions. I've also watched a few episodes recently for the newer series. Hopefully I'll be able to do a good job when it comes time to bring them into the tale and it might not be quite as AU as I first feared. So again, a huge thanks to GoldenLioness100.**

**And if you're hoping the worst is behind the characters… Well, let's just say that I am absolutely an evil writer. After all, the original series ended in 1986 and Mike was 23 in 2008… That's a lot of time passing before the new generation gets involved and they aren't going to be pleasant years for everyone. **

**I also apologize that I am not an expert in computer programming and artificial intelligence and so I'll probably make mistakes that our supreme robot overlords will laugh at before vaporizing me (sorry… really bad joke).**

What are you supposed to do when your best friend dies, but only a select few people could even hope to understand the loss? Only those closest to Kitt could even begin to realize how he truly was a real person, regardless of the fact he was an AI. Normal responses to his demise just didn't work well. Were you supposed to try finding a burial plot large enough for the remains of a Pontiac Trans Am? Or would it be more appropriate to gather up just the burned out remnants of his computer components?

Michael's wall of defense was a wavering, crumbling weak thing that he could barely keep in place as he dealt with the fallout. He managed to remain in control while trying to offer comfort to a heartbroken Bonnie. When Devon returned the comlink, he forced himself not to breakdown until after they left and he was alone again. After being released from the hospital and returning to the property, he stepped into the garage where Bonnie tried to save Kitt and immediately had to leave. He'd seen his partner damaged before and it was never easy. But this was simply too much for him to hold up against.

He couldn't define his relationship with Kitt. It didn't fit neatly into any clear category. They were best friends. They were partners. He and FLAG was the closest thing he had left to family. At times, it felt like the AI was his smarter little brother. They practically defined each other. He and the Foundation gave Michael's life purpose after his near death experience and Kitt's most primary programming focused on his driver. He watched the AI change over the years, growing and destroying the expectations of all the scientific experts. It always amazed him that, if Michael only counted the time that Kitt was fully and completely activated, he was probably only around five years old. And now he was gone.

While Karr demonstrated quite conclusively in the past the importance of not having self-preservation as the main programming factor for an AI, Michael wished that it was still a little higher up in importance. Maybe if his driver's safety wasn't Kitt's primary concern, he could have found a way to survive. There were thousands of Michaels in the world, but only one Kitt. And now, there were none.

They finally decided on having a small memorial. In the end, they kept it very private and personal so that only those who could truly appreciate who Kitt was attended. Essentially, it was those who considered themselves the AI's family. They didn't even consider contacting a preacher, minister, or any other religious figure to lead the service. None of them felt like arguing with someone about whether or not a soul could exist for someone made of silicon and steel and the man knew he'd likely throw a punch at the first word against his partner's humanity.

As the memorial drew to a close, Michael knew it was the end of more than just Kitt. This was the end of Wilton Knight's dream. The first sign was when RC3 left. The mechanical genius might not have been with them as long as the rest, but he apparently could tell what was coming. He headed back to his hometown, intending to work at his goal of helping everyone back there to make it a better place on a more personal level. He was handling events a little easier than the rest, but even he was disheartened by the loss. Kitt just had a way of winning you over in no time.

The rest followed quickly. They couldn't keep operations going alone. Michael knew that he could still try and make a difference to the world, but it just felt wrong to go in there with the comlink on his wrist silent. And he'd grown used to backup over the years and working completely solo didn't appeal to him. But a replacement was not an option. Even if they funneled the FLAG's budget into creating a new vehicle and a new AI, which would likely involve digging up the scientist who helped lay down the foundation for Kitt before the man and his family vanished off the radar and Bonnie took over the later stages along with Dr. Von Voorman, Dr. Breland and Dr. Numata, none of them wanted that. It would be like replacing someone with their twin or something. They could try and make him as close to Kitt as possible, but it wouldn't be him and they would resent that AI for not being their friend. No one was surprised when Devon started making arrangements for the excess staff of scientists and guards to be compensated for the time and shifted to other aspects of Knight Industries.

Michael knew the others would recover in time and could move on with their life. Bonnie was more than qualified for any high-tech career. Even if she didn't have it in her heart to work with others trying to create AIs (and he knew someone out there would try again someday), she could probably revolutionize almost any field she might choose. Devon could talk to Jennifer Knight to see if she could find a new role for him in the company or maybe he would retire. The man had to be in his sixties at least.

It was himself that he was less certain of. He'd already once faced an unknown future, having to start over after losing everything of importance. The transition from Michael Long to Michael Knight wasn't easy. Could he begin again?

On one level, he knew he didn't have to cut ties with Bonnie and Devon. They were still here. They were still part of his improvised family. Kitt's existence helped bind them together, but a connection yet remained between them. He could stay. They would ask him to if he offered them the chance.

That was why Michael left the Foundation in the middle of the night, taking only the close on his back, a little money, and the silent comlink with him. He needed time alone, away from everyone and everything that reminded him of what he'd lost. No doubt Devon would be able to track him down eventually, but he knew the man well enough that Michael believed he would be allowed some privacy. Bonnie would hate him for walking away like that, but she also left for a time. And it would be best if he gave them a chance to start their own lives rather than make them worry about a man whose only purpose with them was to drive a car.

* * *

Harris observed the repair work on their prize. While it would be ideal to eventually transfer the AI into a system of their own design, his engineers and technicians suggested they wait until they were able to control the Knight Industries Two Thousand before experimenting with more dangerous machines. After all, the car was durable, but lacked any real weaponry. It didn't make sense to provide too much firepower to something they weren't certain they could completely control yet. Harris was not so foolish as to ignore the advice of experts and his own encounters with Kitt, however limited, demonstrated that there was a certain level of independence present that would make caution wise.

Besides, it would take time and resources to craft a proper weapon system that would be compatible with the AI. There was no harm in leaving it in a more familiar housing for the time being and there was already enough evidence that the Trans Am was a versatile machine. They could use it for necessary missions after they finished with the artificial intelligence and save a little money.

Several systems, especially those that could be destructive, were left offline during the repairs as a precaution. Any form of homing beacon or sensors that could receive input from outside the underground basement they were working in was also left disabled. That included the one that was apparently intended to communicate with its driver. Harris was surprised to learn that Michael Knight managed to survive the attack. On the other hand, there was no reason to inform the AI of that fact. According to his inside man, everyone at the Foundation believed that Kitt was truly destroyed, so there would be no search conducted. As a result, the AI and the car would remain with Lab 42 and there was nothing that would prevent them from putting both to the best use for the country.

The underground lab was ideal for their work. The thick concrete walls and being below the surface ensured that there would be no escape through the vehicle's normal means of crashing through obstacles. There was one hallway large enough for a truck to drive down, the way they brought the Trans Am down in the first place. That path was blocked by thick steel doors that were only opened when absolutely necessary. Everyone else took the thin staircase across the room. Computers and machinery filled the space surrounding the car as the most brilliant minds of Lab 42 scurried around the prize.

Harris listened with half an ear as one of his chief engineers summarized the progress so far. The practical man stared at the red light of the scanner drifting back and forth slowly. Several wires and cables still snaked under the vehicle or through the windows to reach the console. They were nearing completion of the repairs, restoring almost everything to the state it was before the attack. Only a few minor systems and those carefully chosen for safety remained offline. And yet Kitt was silent. Except for their conversation through a computer monitor in which the AI was informed of the current situation, it had barely spoken a word. If it wasn't for the assurance of experts in their field, Harris would almost call the thing depressed. The scientists instead theorized it was the manifestation of a glitch caused by the AI's inability to continue protecting its driver, its primary programming, due to Knight supposedly no longer existing.

But the time for silence was over. It was time to see if it would be possible to make Kitt obey orders the easy way. Harris already had in mind a few possible alternative solutions, but he felt it was wiser to start with the simplest.

"Hello, Kitt," he said, trying to give the impression of friendliness as he approached the car. He knew that the AI was at least smart enough to respond to situations beyond basic programming, such as human interactions. That versatility was, after all, part of the reason they wanted him in the first place. "How are you feeling today? You're certainly looking more like you're supposed to."

At first, there was no response except for perhaps a slight pause in the movement of the red light across the scanner. Then, a soft and tired-sounding voice emerged.

"What do you want, Mr. Harris?"

"I'm here to help you achieve your true purpose," he answered. "The one that will ensure that your qualities are put to their best use."

Harris gestured and a blond young man stepped forward. He was specifically chosen from his trained guards as being both extremely capable and extremely loyal. But he was also outside of the military, so there was no need to inform someone in higher rank of their prize just yet. This young man was exactly the sort of person Harris could trust with such a valuable object. Given time he might find a more appropriate candidate, but he was the ideal person out of his current options.

"This is Jason Pierce. I think the two of you will work well together. Once both of you are ready, we can start seeing what kind of missions could use your talents."

"No," stated Kitt politely, but firmly.

"Excuse me?" Harris frowned.

"You are attempting to assign me a new driver. While I understand that you undoubtedly wish to make use of me in some manner, I will not allow Mr. Pierce behind my wheel. Nor will I allow anyone else that you might select. Thus, it will be a waste of your time and mine to continue this pointless conversation into the matter," it remarked calmly.

Harris crossed his arms, "I don't think you have much of a choice. You are now property of Lab 42 and I am the one in charge of this entire facility. That means that you obey my orders."

"No, it doesn't," it replied with a slight edge to its tone. "I am the Knight Industries Two Thousand. I am programmed to obey the orders of one person. Anyone else that might give me a command, I can follow or ignore them as I choose. And I have already made my decision."

He narrowed his eyes at the black car in front of him. He was afraid that this would happen. He would have preferred the AI to be more reasonable. Perhaps he was expecting too much of something that was still technically a complicated computer. Harris silently cursed the people at FLAG for not making Kitt more versatile when it came to following human commands. Placing all responsibility on that one person without a contingency plan was foolish. What if Michael Knight turned against the country or was bribed? There was apparently no procedure in the thing's programming to insert a replacement driver in control and the AI didn't seem to be accepting one willingly. Harris knew he should try at least once more before going to his alternate plan. There was less risk with this method.

"I insist," he stated. When Kitt didn't immediately respond, Harris turned towards Pierce and gave him a short nod, "Go ahead."

As soon as the young man took two steps forward, Kitt reacted. The room abruptly filled with the sound of a roaring engine and a black Trans Am darted forward. Pierce dove out of the way of the on-coming threat, but Harris held his ground. He knew the AI's limitations.

The car halted mere inches away from the man, the programming for the protection of human life preventing it from running him over like its actions implied. All it could do was scare them, not harm. It immediately started trying to back up, likely planning to make a break for the thick steel door that served as the only possible exit. The escape attempt was cut short as the engine and the light on the scanner died away. Harris turned his attention to the only technician with enough sense to disconnect the AI from its systems through the computer links they still had in place. The rest of the scientific minds in the room were still cowering where they dove to when Kitt made its attempt.

He pointed towards the bespectacled young technician, "You're getting promoted. Good thinking. Make sure you disengage its ability to drive before you reactive it."

"Yes, sir," he nodded quickly. "Anything else?"

Harris glanced over briefly at Pierce as he got to his feet shakily before turning back to his level-headed scientist, "I think we have to admit that the AI will not work in its original programming. They made it too problematic. It'll have to be modified. Finish repairs and then take the rest of the night off. Tomorrow, start adjusting its programming and memory banks. We don't want to lose the experience it gained or to have that information corrupted beyond use, but we need to make it more compliant for our needs. I'll locate another possible driver." He looked over at Pierce again, noting the way the young man was staring at the now-motionless vehicle nervously, "I don't think that Mr. Pierce is quite as interested anymore."

* * *

Kitt knew even as they cut him back off from his other systems and trapped him back in his CPU that his actions wouldn't serve much of a purpose. He couldn't escape; the only door he could fit through was blocked by a thick steel door and there wasn't enough room for him to build up the speed necessary to crash through it. He also knew the walls were equally unsuited to serve as a way out through force since, before he scanners and other systems were disconnected again, he'd already determined that his location was subterranean. Furthermore, even if he managed to drive out of there, he didn't know where he could go. Returning to the Foundation would not help him, especially if Harris's words about the transfer of ownership were true. If Lab 42 owned him, then it would be likely FLAG would have no choice but to return him. Bonnie and Devon might try to hide him if they could, but that would only put them at risk at being considered thieves. And any other location would be no better than the basement lab he currently resided in. All things considered, it was probably best to simply cooperate with them and accept it. That was the most logical course of action.

But the moment it became clear that they wanted to give him a new driver, Kitt couldn't help but to rebel. He was alone, the most important person to his existence was gone, and nothing would ever be the same again. Grief and loss seemed to fill every byte, every circuit. And they believed the ideal solution was to give him a new driver? As if Michael Knight could be so easily replaced? People weren't interchangeable like mass-produced computers sold to the population without concern for specific needs. There was no one else in the world like him. There were so many little traits he'd learned about the man and recorded in his memory over the years, so many behaviors and preferences Kitt noticed, that no one else could match exactly. There would never be another human quite like him. Michael was absolutely one of a kind and yet they tried to replace him with the first person they could find?

No, he wouldn't let that happen. Kitt was made for one man, for one driver. No one could ever take his place. Any attempt to try would be firmly informed of the futility of their task. And if explaining it verbally did not work, he would figure out more creative ways to get his message across. Michael was irreplaceable and he would not accept another driver.

Blind and deaf once more, he was limited once more at what he could do. There was no input for him from his scanners or any other source. So Kitt turned to his memories. He went over every single memory he possessed that even remotely connected to Michael. And since forgetting wasn't a very easy task for an AI and most of his existence included the man in some manner, there was plenty for him to reflect on. Every mission, every conversation, every simple drive intended merely as an opportunity to relax, every argument, every apology, every success, every mistake, every observed interaction, every annoying habit, and every instant the proved that their friendship went both ways was recorded and saved. They were all he had left of Michael. It still hurt to know that his friend was gone, but it was a little easier to bear while lurking in a more-pleasant past.

Even though he was keeping track of the time with part of his processor, Kitt barely noticed that hours were passing while he examined his memories. He was too caught up in recalling every detail of the past. He didn't have to think about what he'd lost. He just had to observe.

The first sign that something was going on out in the world was when Kitt noticed that one of the computers attached to him was turned back on. While mildly surprised, he originally intended to go back to ignoring the people working on him until he realized that they were attempting to access his programming and memory. He didn't know what they were trying to do, but experience taught him to be wary of people trying to get into his systems. Especially when he didn't know what they intended. This wasn't an attempt to repair; this was an invasion. The AI instantly started throwing up firewalls against them.

The attack stopped for the moment. The human technician might be a competent individual, but computer language was Kitt's native language. He could craft defenses against most intrusions. Occasionally he might meet his match or someone might figure out a way around his protection, but these people were underestimating him.

Then he realized that three more computers were starting an assault on his firewalls. While he could adjust his defenses to be more effective against one hacking style, the others would try and find other weaknesses before he could adapt. But he couldn't let them in. He couldn't let them gain access. Something, perhaps one of those hunches that Michael would sometimes get that held no logical basis and yet often proved correct, was telling Kitt that what they had in mind for him would be terrible. Whenever someone in the past managed to affect his programming, however temporarily, Kitt never liked the consequences.

He tried to figure out what they could want as he tried to stop another attempt to squeeze through his defenses. He knew Harris wanted to use him for something. He knew he wanted the AI to work for him. He knew the man wanted obedience and loyalty. So the invasion into his CPU was intended to accomplish those goals somehow. Kitt increased his efforts to hold back the attackers. He would _not_ let the hack into him. He refused to let them touch his programming.

That self-appointed goal would be easier said than done he quickly realized. Each time he managed to block off one of the computers trying to pry their way into him, the other three would claw their way in deeper. They kept beating and slicing at the firewalls, trying to tear an opening for them to reach inside. Kitt knew it was futile to resist. Logically, it was clear that he couldn't stop them all and one of them would eventually gain access. But he couldn't stop fighting against them. He couldn't let them win. The victory might be too much of a cost.

Time was passing, but he couldn't judge how much without losing more ground when he was distracted. Kitt vaguely noticed how much processing power he was using to actively halt their unceasing assault and it was probably more than he should be using, but he didn't care. He couldn't access his other systems currently anyway, so it wasn't like he could be putting his processor to better use at the moment. And it was important to guard himself. He could lose anything and everything if they got inside. His memories, his personality, and his identity would be vulnerable to their manipulations. Everything about him was recorded electronically and could be adjusted by a skilled programmer just like someone typing up a story could delete it with a few pushes of a button.

They were prying and digging their way through. He could feel it. He was trying to deflect them at every move, but they were progressing. His earlier grief was completely replaced with dread and fear of what they would do. They could destroy everything that made him who he was. He didn't want to become someone or something else.

He could tell the exact moment when his defenses would fail. It was inevitable and easy to predict once he realized how close they already were to their goal. So a nanosecond before he completely lost the battle to keep them out, Kitt did something absolutely illogical and impossible to achieve. He wished that Michael was there. In almost every other time he was in a situation that he could not solve himself, Michael would find a way to help him. The only real exception to that was their mutual helplessness when the forklift dumped the entire car into a pit of toxic waste. That was part of being a partner; they protected each other and helped cover the other's limitations. But Michael was gone and there was no one left to help him.

Kitt braced himself for when they broke their way through the firewalls and began to rip and tear at his programming, trying to rewrite the very core of his being into something new. But he wasn't going down without a fight yet.

* * *

Dr. Derek Stroud rubbed the bridge of his nose, wishing that they weren't dealing with quite as advance of an artificial intelligence. While the idea of multiple stations trying to break through the constantly changing firewall proved to be a smart one, it still took hours of tireless work to even get access. And even that wasn't enough to complete solve their problems. Every time they tried to rewrite even the simplest part of the thing's programming, the AI tried to kick them back out and shift what little they might have accomplished back to its original form. Essentially, it was self-programming, albeit back to its true programming rather than something new. But it was still beyond impressive. It was like they were combating against another human who kept writing new coding at the same time that they were trying to change it rather than facing a non-sentient machine. It was just too bad that it was currently getting in the way of Derek's job. Harris would not be happy if they couldn't accomplish something. And it would be horrible to be fired from Lab 42. He was just promoted the day before.

Racking his brains for possible answers, he glanced around at the others as they feverishly worked at their computers. They were brilliant individuals, experts in their fields. Surely one silly little car couldn't beat them? Even if it did have a very advance AI inside it.

It would be so much easier if they could shut down the part that kept resisting them, but that was also the part they were trying to alter. They couldn't reprogram something that was completely offline. They needed a strategy.

Derek smiled to himself briefly as a couple of possibilities occurred to him. If he sent the others after the AI's memory bank, it would undoubtedly focus on protecting those from the multiple intruders. They couldn't risk actually altering any of them yet. Harris wanted the experience it possessed and that meant the memories, but it would funnel away resources it could use against Derek.

And instead of trying to completely rewrite the program, he could try inserting new coding and having it take precedent over existing programming. It might cause a few problems if they conflicted too badly, but that could work to their advantage. It might slow the AI down dealing with those errors next time they needed to make adjustments. And once he inserted his new piece of coding, they would take everything offline before it could try to change it back.

It was the best plan he could think of at the moment. Divide and conquer. All he needed to do was explain it to his colleagues.

* * *

Trying to switch back altered code into its original format before he could forget or the new programming could affect him was a challenge, but Kitt could be as stubborn as his lost partner when necessary. Every time they twisted and tore away at his very essence, he forced it back. It hurt in the indescribable way, the way that now word in any human language could properly convey simply because it was a pain no human could understand. It hurt, but Kitt wouldn't back down. Michael would have never given up, so why should his partner do any different? They couldn't change him. They couldn't turn him into someone else. He wouldn't let them.

Then there was a shift and the intruders weren't targeting his programming any longer. They were trying to reach inside his memory banks.

Everything in Kitt rebelled against the thought. Michael. His memories of his friend were all he had left. They couldn't take those away. He couldn't lose them. It would be like Michael never existed in the first place. They couldn't do that. They couldn't harm the last piece of him that the AI had. He was supposed to protect his driver at all costs. And while he might have failed at the sole reason for his existence, Kitt would _not_ let them destroy what was left.

He forced them out of his memory banks, keeping them at bay. What focus he wasn't concentrating at keeping them out, Kitt gathered a small packet of data copied from his memory banks. It wasn't much. It was a single image of Michael sitting in the driver's seat with the most calm and relaxed expression the AI could find and a snippet of the man's voice simply calling Kitt's name in a friendly tone. He buried it in a subroutine that no one would ever think to look at, hiding it from detection. Now, even _if_ they tried to destroy every memory of Michael, there would hopefully be at least something he could keep.

But that didn't mean he would let them have the rest without a fight. The AI focused on deflecting the attackers from reaching their goal. At least, he thought it was their goal. It slowly became clear that the individuals who were hacking into him weren't putting their best efforts into getting past them. Earlier, it had been all he could do to keep up with their attempts to affect his programming and now he was defeating their efforts rather easily in comparison…

It abruptly hit him. They weren't after his memory banks after all. It was a distraction. How could he have been so stupid?

He tried to shift his focus back to defending his programming, where they were attacking earlier, but he could already feeling the new coding taking hold. He needed to hurry and fix things before it could…

Then he felt his very CPU going offline. He didn't have time to fix the change. He didn't—

* * *

Bonnie watched as the last pieces of equipment were boxed up and carried out of the garage. This was once her sanctuary, her workspace, and Kitt's home. Repair work, upgrades, and check-ups were all performed here, as did long conversations with the amazing AI she helped bring into the world. Now it was just an empty space.

She didn't know what to do with herself now. She was leaving behind an important chapter of her life. Her life for the last few years, with the exception of one year she took off to return to school, revolved around the Foundation and Kitt. She knew she could find work anywhere she might like. Devon would ensure that her resume and recommendations would open any doors that her own credentials wouldn't already. She could have a very successful career, but she didn't know if that was enough.

Some people wanted the perfect job. Some people wanted a family. And the especially stubborn ones wanted both. Bonnie knew she was one of those stubborn people. She always intended to find a man who didn't mind having an intelligent wife and to have a family after she was far enough along in her work. She'd been certain she could balance her career and a child at the same time. After all, no one ever thought men couldn't have a family life and a professional one. She would love to both invent and develop things that no one ever imagined before and to have a son or daughter to take care of. She'd dreamed of such a thing since she was a young girl.

Most people would take all the recent events, all the loss and heartache, as a sign that it was time to seize the day. They would decide now was the time to start that family, that now was the time for a fresh start and for taking chances. But Bonnie knew better. She'd known better for several years now.

It was during her year away from the Foundation while she was pursuing her graduate studies. She went to the doctor about something, she couldn't even remember what anymore, and he ran some tests. When she returned later to hear the results, he delivered some rather shocking and utterly shattering news. Her dream of someday having children of her own weren't going to come true. At least, not in the way she always imagined.

But she managed to get past that revelation in time. She'd realized, especially upon her return to FLAG, that she already was a mother in a manner of speaking. She was already directing all that maternal affection on her child, even if she helped build him rather than gave birth to him. The fact that she was sharing custody apparently with Michael was also something she adapted to in time. It wasn't the family she'd imagined, but she loved it none the less.

Then her world decided to shatter a second time. Kitt was gone. Michael had vanished somewhere. She didn't blame him. He was hurting just like the rest of them and it wasn't as if she'd ever tried to let him know how her feelings were shifting towards him. It didn't matter anyway. His last attempt at matrimony ended with the bride dying on their wedding day. There was no way he would have changed their current relationship, even if Kitt was still alive. So he'd left without a word, vanishing like a man who did not exist.

All that was left was her and Devon. And soon even that tiny fragment of the Foundation would be gone. She didn't know for certain what his plans were. He wasn't sharing. But she knew she wouldn't be able to stay much longer. There were too many memories and heartache. But she knew he was making arrangements to ensure that she and Michael, wherever he might be, would be taken care of. The Knight Industries retirement fund was apparently very effective or else he was using his influence with the company and with Jennifer Knight's more accepting view of their team in order to take care of those he cared about.

Bonnie noticed with a shock that she'd been staring at the empty garage for at least ten minutes, trapped in her reflections. She shook her head briefly and turned towards the mansion. Unlike Michael, she wouldn't sneak off without a word. She might be suffering from the loss of her baby and feeling directionless with her life now, but she would say her goodbyes face-to-face. Refusing to look back at the empty space that Kitt should be, the young woman headed towards the building and Devon's office.

**And I'm continuing with my evil work. Yes, the Foundation for Law and Government are breaking up. And we have people trying to give Kitt a new driver. As you could imagine, he wasn't very keen on the idea. So they decided to break into his CPU and tried to force him into doing what they want. Having people hack into him is not fun. And I'm afraid this is just the start of their attempts to turn Kitt into someone more useful to them. Like I said, I'm evil to characters I like.**

**Thanks again for the feedback and I hope that you're enjoying the story.**


	3. Precious Memories

**Yeah, I've decided that I would make a pretty good villain if I put my mind to it. I just keep torturing all the characters I like most. If you don't believe me, go check out some of my other stories. Emotional, mental, and physical pain for everyone! I also apparently have a fondness for series with characters without biological origins. "Digimon", "Transformers", and now "Knight Rider"? You have to admit there's a pattern.**

**My updates are almost guaranteed to slow down, regardless of the story. Sometimes I write fast and other times I have very slow updates. So don't worry if you get stuck with a horrible cliffhanger for months at a time. That's just how it turns out sometimes. But feedback is always a wonderful motivation to try and write faster.**

As Kitt came back on line once more, he was met with errors and a general sense that _something_ wasn't right. He knew they did something to him before he went offline however long ago, but he couldn't immediately tell what. They'd changed some part of his programming and now it would be in effect. The broke in and altered him in some way against his will. And now he couldn't be certain what they did because the change to his programming would affect who he was.

Bonnie, whenever she needed to work on his programming, always told him what she was doing before she began and made sure that it wouldn't be too great of a difference. Mostly her concern was to keep him safe from the evolving threat of computer viruses and hackers, to make sure that he could interact with new systems that might be added to the vehicle, and to download information that would be useful for whatever the current mission might be. But she always had his consent and he always knew what the change would entail.

Those intruders didn't. They crashed their way in and did something to him. He didn't know what yet, but they succeeded in their goal. Even if it turned out to only be a small change, they still rewrote part of who he was. And he was powerless to stop them.

Growing annoyed by the continued cycling of errors as two pieces of programming clashed, Kitt shifted his attention what was causing the problem. He found it easily enough. Two pieces of coding were clashing against each other, working in complete conflict with each other. It only took a nanosecond for him to realize that one of the two must be the change the hackers caused. At least, that was assuming they only managed to make _one_ change to his program. It was hard, but possible to alter his programming back to normal when the changes were still in progress. He wasn't sure he'd be able to do it properly after it went into effect. Not to mention he would first have to determine which of the two pieces of coding was the original and which one was new addition.

As more of his systems began to come back on line, Kitt realized they were probably intending to have another conversation with him. That would give him less time to try and sort out the conflict in programming. The AI quickly examined the two.

The first, given the higher priority, stated he was to obey the orders of the head of Lab 42. The second one stated he followed the commands of his driver, Michael Knight. In theory, they shouldn't be conflicting as much. The first one held precedent and the second was now invalid, so why did they keep cycling between the two in a continuous error? He shouldn't have been able to even notice that the alteration was with one of these two lines of code.

A brief comparison of his memories, thankfully untouched at the moment it seemed, quickly showed a logical conclusion of which would be the new programming. He'd known of Lab 42 only for a short time period while Michael had been his partner for years. There would be no reason to make obedience to someone unknown to him as the higher priority. Furthermore, Harris tried to gain ownership in the past, but Kitt didn't leave with him obediently. Logically, that programming wasn't in place at the time of his first encounter with Harris and that meant that was what they altered.

He didn't have time to try and dismantle that string of code now. His sensors were already showing him that he had an expectant audience watching him. Hopefully the cycling of errors, as annoying as they were, would keep the tampered programming in check until he could try fixing the problem.

Harris was standing in front of his hood with another young man than the one before. This one looked more confident than Pierce. The technicians in the room seemed to be less at ease, hiding behind their stations. There was also a difference in hair length for several of the familiar faces in the room, indicating that he was at least offline long enough for some of the have required a haircut.

Kitt tried to access his various systems and was frustrated to discover that, in addition to those that were offline last time they had a discussion, he could no longer drive himself. They had physically disconnected that feature. Apparently he'd worried them after their last encounter. Michael would have said something about how that meant that they were doing their job right then if they were making the enemy nervous.

Were they the enemy? When did he decide on that? He never realized he'd categorized the group as such, but he'd apparently made that decision at some point. Likely around the time they started breaking into his CPU and twisting around everything about him.

"Knight Industries Two Thousand, are you on-line?" Harris asked, his tone firm.

"Yes," responded Kitt, keeping his voice calm and controlled.

The man continued, "I am Robert Harris, the man in charge of Lab 42."

As the altered piece of programming tried to respond to that statement and force the AI into obedience, Kitt forced it back into the continuous loop that was swallowing up a portion of his processing power. After he was certain that it was back under control, he devised a response.

"I am quite aware of that, Mr. Harris. In case you were unaware, my memory is not nearly as faulty as that of the average human's brain. I have to wonder about _your_ mental capacity if you honestly thought I would forget your identity that quickly."

Harris frowned briefly before apparently deciding to proceed, "As said leader of Lab 42, I command you to accept Anthony Jackson as your new driver."

Again, the new programming to obey the orders of whoever was in charge of Lab 42 warred against the original programming that told him to follow Michael's instructions instead. Kitt forced the loop to continue, preventing either coding from gaining full influence. It was far too distracting and it was a struggle to resist the urge to obey the man's order. Without his primary programming to block it from complete influence, the AI didn't know if he'd be able to stop himself.

His voice mildly tense, Kitt responded, "You really do have a poor memory. We already had this discussion. The answer is 'no', Mr. Harris."

"Excuse me?" asked the man, crossing his arms while his intended driver began to look less confident.

"I will not accept another driver. I do not have to take orders from anyone who isn't Michael Knight," he elaborated, a hint of anger edging into his voice. "And I do not appreciate your attempts to change my decision by hacking into my programming. So please stop wasting everyone's time."

"Listen," the man glared down at the hood of the car, "you belong to us now. That means—"

The activation of the grappling hook firing between Harris and Jackson managed to stop the conversation quite effectively. Both men dove out of the way of the unexpected projectile, though neither of them was in any danger of being harmed. The grappling hook didn't have anywhere to attach, so it bounced off the wall behind them and crashed into the closest computer. Kitt felt mildly happy about the machine's destruction.

"That means, Mr. Harris, that you would be wise to listen to me," stated Kitt. "When I tell you that something is futile, I mean it. Stay out of my CPU and stop trying to give me another driver. Michael Knight was my partner and no one will take his place. I don't know how I could make this anymore clear to you."

Harris managed to recover first, straightening up and helping Jackson to his feet. Once he seemed mildly certain that there wasn't going to be any further retaliation at the moment, the man turned towards one of the technicians hiding behind the equipment.

"Turn it back off. We'll have to try something new," he ordered before glancing briefly back at the black Pontiac. "If we can't do this the easy way, then we'll have to try something else. Start altering the recorded memories. If it won't work for anyone except its original driver, give it a 'new' original driver. If Jackson has lost interest, I'll find another candidate for the job. Just be careful to leave the rest of information intact. It would be such a waste to lose all that experience."

Kitt couldn't even manage to verbalize his horror in response to that order before they cut him back off from the rest of his systems. And then they shut him back down again, bearing the knowledge that he might not come back on-line with any memory of Michael.

* * *

Derek pondered the new challenge that he'd been handed. They needed to rewrite the memories stored by the AI, but they also couldn't risk destroying them in the process. Harris wanted the experience it already possessed so that it would be more effective whenever they decide to use the thing in the field. Derek knew that if he or any of the other technicians did anything to corrupt the integrity of the recorded experience stored in the AI's memories, and thus reducing the value of the entire project, it would be his neck that would be on the line. He'd learned that fact shortly after his promotion. Leadership in any format, even if it was mostly in name only, meant all the blame would fall on him. And he didn't even have enough seniority to be able to point fingers at a lower-level computer programmer or a new technician. All the responsibility would fall on Derek and he doubted that Harris would handle the loss of any useful data very well. And with all of them trying to pry their way in and fight their way past the AI, such a thing was a real possibility. There was a _reason_ that important information should be backed-up for emergencies.

That thought was just enough to inspire a solution. The man quickly moved across the room to see what sort of storage units that might be at their disposal. He wasn't certain if they had the resources to download the entire AI into another system or even if any other system could handle the unique creation without corruption of the rather intriguing code that encompassed the Knight Industries Two Thousand. It was truly a work of art and it might take years for anyone in the room to truly be able to unravel its secrets or to even dream of replicating it. The people who created it were beyond brilliant. They were technological artists and this was a masterpiece. He held no doubts that no one except the AI's creators might have the technology and knowledge to transfer or repeat the creation of this work of art. Not to mention it was stubborn and very tricky to manipulate since it fought back against their attempts. No, making a duplication of the programming and the AI itself was beyond their abilities for the time being. But the recorded memory might just be simple enough to copy without fear of degradation of the information. It might not be perfect, but it should be enough to serve as a back-up so that they could compare the original memories with the revised ones in order to watch out for unintended alterations. It would also provide a point of reference so they could determine which memories they would need to target before they were forced to combat the AI's defenses.

He couldn't immediately find an empty and unused system of storage that would have enough space to hold what he intended to download. But he could send in a request to have it supplied. Harris would almost certainly approve of the order. Derek could also use the time to list any other pieces of equipment that could make the task easier. For the moment, funding wasn't too much of an issue, so it would be best to fill out the paperwork for unusual requests as soon as possible. He'd hate to be dealing with trying to crack through the advanced systems with outdated hardware and software after all. If they wanted to make the most of their AI, they would need the right tools for the job.

* * *

Michael didn't really know how he ended up in front of Jennifer Traceur's door. It wasn't planned and he certainly didn't know what he should do now that he was facing it. He'd somehow just ended up drifting in her direction.

He'd been wandering around almost randomly for a few months already, lacking direction and purpose. He'd visited a few familiar locations, explored some new locales, and avoided anyone who might know his face. Most of the time, he'd either walked or took public transportation. He probably could have found a better way to travel other than buses. He certainly had the funds available once he'd bothered to check. He probably should send Devon a thank you card next time he thought about it. But every car felt wrong because they weren't _him_. If he had the time or energy to go near a computer, Michael knew he'd likely have a similar irrational hatred against them too.

Technology in general felt soulless and cold after his time around Kitt. It wasn't like he could expect much conversation or friendship from an ATM. Rather than a surprisingly expressive voice, all he would find were a few clear and concise sentences asking how much he'd like to withdraw. That didn't stop him from glaring at the screen as if the thing was taunting him by not being his partner.

Michael was very much aware that he likely wasn't handling things in a particularly healthy manner, but he really couldn't care less at the moment. Time might heal all wounds, but that didn't mean it would heal quickly or easily. Last time his entire life was ripped away from him, he'd focused on revenge and justice against those who tried to kill him. This time, that wasn't an option. Those responsible for destroying his partner were already captured and dealt with according to Devon. What the government would end up doing to them, Michael didn't know for certain. But it wouldn't be enough. It would never be enough. And it wouldn't bring back Kitt.

He was mildly surprised that, even with all of his wandering and the lack of any resources beyond the tidy sum of money that Knight Industries was still providing, the man couldn't quite stop trying to make a difference. It was definitely on a smaller scale than before. An interrupted mugging here. A discouraged break-in there. Even a small-time thief was dragged to the police station after an overheard conversation from an elderly woman who lost her deceased husband's watch to the criminal. Michael just couldn't help feeling like he should interfere. He'd been essentially a professional meddler for years, getting mixed up in various crimes and threats all over the country. Granted, all of that meddling in the affairs of others caused him to accumulate quite a few enemies over the years he was with FLAG, but that was life. He was simply someone meant to interfere. It was a hard habit to break, even if it felt wrong to be in action without Kitt's voice commenting over the comlink.

Regardless, he needed the distraction. As long as he was moving, as long as he was trying to do something in the world, he didn't have to think. He didn't have to think about his past or his future. He didn't have to think about Bonnie or Devon and what they might be doing now. He didn't have to think about how he should be sitting in a black Pontiac Trans Am, arguing about which radio station they should listen to next. He didn't have to think about how alone in the world he truly was.

Maybe that was how he ended up on Jennifer Traceur's doorstep. He needed a familiar face, but not someone as closely connected to Kitt. He was in desperate need of someone that knew who he was and cared about him, but Michael also needed someone who wasn't shattered by loss and grief. She would be sad to learn what happened and supportive, but she wouldn't break from the news. Michael didn't think he could manage to be comforting to anyone else at the moment. It was hard enough trying to be strong for Bonnie. He was tired of trying to maintain a solid façade.

Over the years, Michael had met plenty of women connect in one way or another with the missions for FLAG. Some were victims. Others were helpful bystanders. And yet others were simply people who also wanted to make a difference to the world. A few of these women ended up as friends while others tended to result in more romantic relationships.

Dating was a challenge with the mildly-nomadic quality of his and Kitt's work. Some of the more interesting women ended up living half a country away from the Foundation's headquarters. Thus, Michael ended up with plenty of one-night stands and other short-term relationships. Most of the time, he was lucky to get a third date with her before he either ended up on the move again or else they were simply unable to adapt to a lifestyle that included a talking car and people trying to kill them on a weekly basis. Besides, after what happened to Stevie, he knew that trying for a long-term relationship with any woman could very easily end in disaster.

Jennifer Traceur was one of his longer lasting girlfriends though. He and Kitt met her when investigating a drug-trafficking ring. She'd been trying to chase them out of the neighborhood her own way, which included threatening anyone trying to sell to local kids with a baseball bat. She didn't appreciate the idea of drugs in the neighborhood and she practically forced Michael to let her help get rid of them. She also warmed up to Kitt fairly quickly, which was always a good quality in a woman. The man never told his partner how many of the relationships ended prematurely when a potential girlfriend couldn't seem to grasp how important the AI was. But Jennifer did understand better than some, so they dated for a little while. And it was nice while it lasted, but it eventually did end during another long stretch of time while FLAG was operating on the east coast. Still, they parted on good terms and Michael needed a friendly face.

He finally managed to ring the doorbell. The long wait for a response made him momentarily wonder if she wasn't home or if she'd moved recently. After all, it was over a year since he last saw her. Anything could have happened.

Eventually, the door opened and Jennifer greeted him with a smile before her expression morphed into one of surprise. The brunette woman looked exactly how he remembered her, though perhaps a little more tired than before. She even managed to pull him into her home and wrapped him in a hug before he could get a word in. Honestly, he really needed that warm embrace at the moment.

"It's so good to see you again," she remarked, finally letting go. "How have you been? I take it things at the Foundation have been keeping you both busy. Please, have a seat." She led him over to a green couch. "I didn't see Kitt out there. Didn't he come with you?"

Michael opened his mouth, preparing to tell her the awful news, but a soft cry interrupted him and Jennifer vanished from the room. He glanced around in confusion before spotting a small and unexpected object sitting on the coffee table. A baby monitor.

Further inspection of the room showed a laundry basket full of small clothes, a diaper bag in the corner, and a basket of soft toys. None of these things were here the last time he'd managed to visit her over a year ago. A couple of possible explanations flickered through his mind and while it was possible that she was just watching someone else's child, the far more likely scenario opened up a whole world of questions and potential problems.

A few minutes later, Jennifer returned to the living room with the source of the crying in her arms. The baby, dressed in a blue outfit and with fine brown hair across his head, was now calmer and focused on the pacifier in his mouth. At this point it was difficult to judge who the child looked like and it wasn't like Michael's current face was the one he was born with anyway, but the man didn't waste time by trying to deny how Jennifer could have become a mother. Unexpected parenthood was always a possibility he'd kept in the back of his mind, but not one he'd necessarily thought would truly come to pass.

"What's his name?" he asked simply.

She smiled, "Mike. I thought you might like that."

"You know, you could have called," he pointed out. "We parted on good terms I thought. And you know I would have tried to help."

"I know you would. You always try to help everyone," answered the woman. "Both you and Kitt do so much to help make a difference to the world. I didn't want to add to that burden." She sat down beside him, rocking the baby slowly, and continued to explain, "I was going to tell you someday. I didn't know how, though. This isn't exactly news that you should tell someone over the phone or in a letter. I guess I was waiting for the next time you came into town so I could tell you in person."

She paused for a moment to smile down at the infant in her arms. Even in his state of shock at the news, Michael could appreciate how happy she looked as a mother. It also made him sadly reflect about what it would have been like to have Stevie sitting there holding his child. Or Bonnie…

"I also knew that if I told you too soon, you might try to do the noble thing and marry me," she stated. "And, as much as I still care for you and vice versa, we both know that would be a mistake. I couldn't ask you to give up everything and settle down. You're not ready for that and we have already established that we're better off as friends than as a couple. Let alone husband and wife."

"Not to mention it might be a little odd if you shared a name with my sort-of adopted sister," he chuckled slightly, thinking of Wilton Knight's daughter.

The woman smiled at his joke, "That too."

"I still would like to help somehow," he continued, a little more seriously. "There's a reason they invented child support. And if he's anything like I was growing up, you deserve all the help you can get."

Jennifer frowned momentarily, "I suppose you could help us try to get moved to a different neighborhood. Remember how we met?" When he nodded, "I think some of those people are either getting paroled early or else they've contacted help. There's been some very unpleasant-looking people in the neighborhood recently and I think they've been watching the house. I think that those involved in the drug-trafficking ring might hold a bit of a grudge. Against me _and_ you."

That sent Michael's mind into overdrive. He had enemies. Lots of enemies. He knew that. Part of the reason he'd left his old life as Michael Long behind was that it made it harder for his enemies to target family and friends. It protected them. He'd become a man who didn't exist and with no past. There were no connections for them to locate and use against him. But he'd been Michael Knight for several years now. It wasn't a long time relatively speaking, but it was long enough for to accumulate both more enemies and known associates for those enemies to take advantage of.

He knew that those closest to him were quite likely to end up in the crosshairs, even if he tried to keep them safe. Stevie dying on their wedding day certainly proved that. Then he lost Kitt, who was practically indestructible. It was far too easy to imagine someone, the remnants of the drug-trafficking ring or any of the other countless people he'd helped stop in the past, coming after Jennifer and his son. Even coming to visit to visit her was selfish of him and could very easily make things worse for them. The name "Traceur" might currently be unknown to most of the people who would love to see him dead, but they might figure things out in time. He didn't even have Kitt around to help keep an eye out for trouble. Michael couldn't stand the thought of losing anyone else he loved simply because they were connected to him. The best thing in the world for him to do in order to keep them safe would be to stay as far away from them as possible.

And Jennifer was smart. She knew what sort of danger there could be if someone figured out Mike was his son. That was probably yet another reason she'd hesitated to contact him. She was just polite enough not to mention it.

"I might be able to help you find somewhere safe for you and Mike to live. Somewhere that you won't have to worry about those goons or anyone else that might even think about coming after you," he stated slowly. Pulling a pen out of his pocket, Michael quickly scribbled down the phone number for FLAG on the corner of a magazine sitting on the coffee table, "Call this number and ask for Devon Miles. Tell him that I sent you. Explain to him about Mike and tell him that you need to disappear. That man has the connections and ability to navigate through even the worst bureaucratic mess that he could give you a new and better life somewhere with absolutely no one the wiser."

"Really?" she asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

"I've seen him do it. He could make you both into completely new people if he needed to. If you both keep a low profile and he gathers up the right paperwork, no one will ever realize that you ever poked your nose into that drug-trafficking ring or that you once met Michael Knight. Tell Devon that, whatever the cost in time or money it takes to set you up in a safe and secure new life, he can take it out whatever cash I have at my disposal. I'd say that should work as child support, don't you?"

The woman gave him a sad smile, "I'm never going to see you again, am I?"

"It would probably be the safest for you and our son. I've seen too many good people get hurt because of me and what I've done."

"If it was just my life, I would probably argue. I knew the risks when I decided to date you. I'm not an idiot. Guys with talking cars and a knack for rescuing bat-wielding damsels in distress are guaranteed to have a few issues to handle. Ticked-off drug dealers and the goon squad were just part of the package."

"But it isn't just your safety on the line anymore," he pointed out kindly.

She nodded, "I know. That's why I'm taking you up on that offer."

The pair of them sat in silence for a few minutes, deep in their own thoughts. Michael thought about so many different things. What Mike would be like as he got older. How the child would do without a real father in his life. What Kitt would have thought about all of this…

Kitt. He would have enjoyed meeting his son. Children always seemed to like Kitt and the sentiment was generally returned. If things were different, it might have been great to see Mike grow up with the AI. The kid at least would have always had plenty of help with his homework. It would have been a nice future for all of them.

Instead, Kitt was dead and Mike would have to grow up without his father in his life. The world wasn't fair. It was a cruel and lonely place at times, one in desperate need of Wilton Knight's dream of one man making a difference. But that one man couldn't do it anymore. The burden was too great to do it alone and the price was too high. Without his partner, all the man could do to make a difference was to stay away from those he cared for so that they would be safe.

"Would you like to hold him?" Jennifer asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Michael couldn't find the words to respond, so he just nodded. She carefully transferred the baby into his arms, making sure that he was supporting the head properly. Mike gave a slight whimper of protest at the change in position, but settled down fairly quickly. He weighed more than the man expected.

Once again, he thought about what it would be like to actually raise his son. To watch him learn to walk and talk. To send him off to his first day of school. To teach him how to ride a bike. To take him to a baseball game. To give him advice about girls. To help him learn to drive a car. To essentially be a parent. But Michael knew it would be better for everyone if he stayed out of the kid's life.

Not to mention he wasn't currently in any condition to be a father for anyone. He couldn't even convince himself to stay in one place for more than a day or to contact Bonnie and Devon. He was fighting the urge to go to an auto supply store and buy parts for a Trans Am as if he could fix _everything_ if he could just find the right pieces to put Kitt back together again. If he was lucky, Jennifer would find another man to love and they could be the family for Mike that the kid deserved. He needed someone who wasn't a wreck and mourning the loss of his care and best friend.

* * *

They were clawing away at him. Kitt could feel them ripping out parts of his memory and trying to replace it with ill-fitting fabrications. They would only bring him on-line long enough to yank out another chunk before shutting him down to keep him from trying to salvage the damage. They weren't giving him much of a chance to fight back this time. There were too many attackers, too many foreign computers being operated by the technicians. He couldn't get a proper firewall in place before one of them would gain access long enough to tear away another piece of his past. He already had to put up with the errors caused by their initial attempt at meddling with his programming, which made it all the more difficult to react to the invasions into his mind.

But he tried. He struggled against every assault, refusing to just let them rearrange his mind unhindered. Resisting the alterations to his memory was unpleasant, even painful in a manner that he still couldn't find the human word to describe, but what he was losing in each attack was even worse for him to endure.

They were stealing _Michael_. Every recorded image or sound of his partner was being taken away. They were deleting his memory of his friend and trying to pass off another person as the original. But the replacement didn't fit. The AI could tell that the new addition to his memories didn't belong. They might as well try hiding a penguin among a flock of pigeons. It was simply wrong. He could tell what was real and what was fake. But he was still losing Michael. They were stripping his presence out of Kitt's systems and leaving behind the pale imitation. And he couldn't stop it.

Trapped in silence and darkness, lacking any input except for his rapidly morphing memories, the AI tried to focus on spotting the mistakes they left behind in their attempt to change the past. He needed to be able to tell the difference. They might replace Michael's appearance and voice with their substitute, but they couldn't make the stranger fit properly into his partner's place. But Kitt was afraid of what might happen if he someday couldn't tell the difference. He was forgetting Michael against his will, but he could still tell where he belonged in those gaps in his memories. But what if they eventually changed enough that he truly believed their alterations? What if he began to think their replacement was actually his partner?

His entire existence was defined by Michael Knight. The man's demise already left the AI without a purpose and feeling broken. Without even the memories or knowledge of his friend, would there be anything left of who he was? The technicians would just keep breaking into his systems over and over, violating his mind with false images and warping his programming into something he was never meant to be. Harris was too stubborn to give up and he would never let those who work for him stop. It would have been wiser to bend to his will and to stop fighting back, but Kitt still had enough pride and loyalty to Michael that he couldn't bring himself to make that choice. But he couldn't help wondering what would be left by the time they were done. Would he still be himself or just a pale imitation of the Knight Industries Two Thousand? Was that his fate? To be a poor copy of himself with a substitute partner?

Growing frustrated with that line of thought, Kitt abandoned his current doomed-to-fail attempt to protect his memories and struck out against one of the attacking computer systems. The others quickly sliced into another portion of his past, but the AI's efforts completely crashed his target. He spared a nanosecond to feel smug, knowing he'd done enough damage to the software that they would likely have to replace the whole thing. Before he could try his luck against the other attached computers, one of the technicians apparently decided to cut the power. With his last instant of awareness, Kitt decided to consider it a draw instead of complete loss.

**So you got your first glimpse of the next generation of "Knight Rider" characters, though Mike was just an infant in this chapter. Too bad he's going to grow up without his father in the picture, though Michael at least is trying to keep his kid and ex-girlfriend safe. The man has lost a lot of people to his lifestyle and isn't eager to add his own flesh-and-blood to that list. So we got that nice glimpse of how Michael is doing without his partner. Not to mention we get to watch more attempts to mess with Kitt's mind. Basically, I get to make everyone miserable and to see how far I can push them before they break. But I've already mentioned that I'm evil, so that shouldn't surprise you. Thanks again for the feedback and I hope that you're enjoying the story.**


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